Verity
by Creatoriginsane
Summary: "You know kid, I think you're my ticket outta this place." DmC 5 : Devil May Cry. / The asylum has more for Dante than what was shown. OCs


**Verity**

A/N: Well I want to test out DmC for myself, but I'd have to wait until next year. I'm currently watching Shoot 'Em Up—and hey, I love action with guns, and guns with action. This is just a one-shot, purely brain vomit.

* * *

**One: Vision**

* * *

"Hello Limbo City.

It's just so fucking amazing how some people get to survive.

Honestly. I wonder how you're doing today. You might be eating breakfast with your kids, or having a quickie with your secretary, or shouting at your wife just because there's no bacon. You might be watching this, most likely you are, because there's nothing else to see on this channel. You might be listening to me over the radio while you drive to work, but there's only one thing I'd like you to know. There's a stronger force that you're holding underground. Oh, did that scare you?

They call this Limbo City for reason. It's just a taste of Hell."

_Click. Stop recording._

"We've done this countless of times, what else do you have to say?"

"Oh, other than impending death and straight-out fuckery, doc? I've got nothing."

"Some experiences, visions maybe?"

"I don't have any."

"Six months and still nothing?"

"I was raised in hell-on-earth, nothing can compare to it."

"Jeez, and I thought this was hell."

"You're just a pussy with a pen for a gun and paper for a face."

"Guess we're down to shots now."

"How many?"

"Three."

"As usual."

"Basic procedures."

"I doubt that they do anything other than let you fuck with me."

"That happened once."

"Twice."

"The last one doesn't count."

"Neither does a dick down my throat, huh, doc? Oh wait! That was mental!"

"I'm sorry."

"You always are."

"I am. I didn't mean to. Really."

"Fuck your apology."

"You're six months down, you're getting there."

"To where, a brothel?"

"Hopefully not."

"Unless something dangerous comes tearing down the gates, I won't be."

"You're safe here."

"Of course I am, I haven't tried to kill myself yet."

"You're getting there, you're getting there."

"Fuck you."

* * *

From afar, you'd get the idea that _Circle 9 Haven_ is an asylum, it is, and that it provides the utmost care for its residents. It does, for the first month, but then it goes underground—literally underground, with cells covered with urine, semen, blood, rust, mildew, vomit, and an unknown slime. The swinging bulbs in the hallway are the only source of light for us, sad I know.

There's almost nothing to eat other than a sticky, meaty pile of sludge. Sometimes we're lucky, there's an ample amount of leftovers from the police and they're still edible. Sometimes we get vitamin pills and morphine, to cope with the pain and the lack of nutrition. Sometimes we get a dose of human-liquids—healthy, healthy sex juices.

**_Fuck no._**

It's like you're forced to survive in hell: beaten, raped, starved, and mentally tortured.

To sate the hunger and the pain, you sleep it all off in an unsatisfying cot with stains from something you wouldn't want to know.

When you wake up, it's a day of interviews, pills, injections, and just dammed silence.

They won't even let you read, socialize, get some fun into your life.

And then—**BAM!**—two weeks later, they give you a cell-mate.

* * *

"They give you paralysis yet?"

He hasn't replied, nor has he even bothered to look at my (obviously) pained state on the floor. I could smell urine.

"No, huh? Lucky bastard." I rolled to my back, groaning at the surge of pain up my spine.

"You're one month down, boy."

"Actually I just came in." Well guess who can talk? But he sounds like a melancholic suicide case.

I cocked my head to the left. "That harsh, huh?" A bruised body and bloody face, greasy hair and a glint in his eyes—he looks dangerous. "What did you do, massacre your entire family? Burned an orphanage? Raped kids?"

"Sadistic streak." He replies after a short while.

This was an asylum, not a prison. "Seems legit enough. How many did you kill?"

"More than enough." He couldn't even muster emotion.

"Huh." What can be called enough anyway? "There's a better facility, you know, for murderers."

"I've been there already."

Lemme guess. "You killed your jail-mates."

"Guards as well."

Well, I just might be murdered anytime now, this is new. "You gonna kill me?"

He shook his head, extremely slow, "You've been put through enough hell."

It sounded like a taunt, bastard. "Then why don't you—" I struggle through the pain as I stood up, "Release me from my misery?"

Nope. Not a blink, not a stare, not a breath, nothing.

I drop to my knees. Damn that paralytic drug, it's not like I'll try to run. This hell is way better that the fucked-up world above.

"You're a tough one to crack, kid. Got a name?"

He stops.

I chuckle. "Other than sixty-four, forty-three, two, B."

"Dante."

"Luira." Yeah, I sound like an angel—_not._ "Ever heard of Dante Alighieri, kid?"

"The Divine Comedy, yeah."

"Where are you guessing we are?"

He says quickly, "Inferno."

"Welcome to Limbo City, freaks." My interview from three months ago, damn intercom, "As everyone knows, all of us are bound to die and live in Hell. There's nothing to prevent it because it's marked in our system. A resident of Limbo City deserves to rot and burn and drown in the Satan's shit. Whoever, wherever you are, they're gonna find you and kill you and take you with them. Like it or not, pray to god or not, you're going to Hell."

_Buzz. Buzz._

He looked irritated. "The fuck was that?"

"That was me, three months ago."

"Yeah, what was that about?" Sarcastic, sorta humored too.

"Docs play interviews every once in a while, just to remind us of the Hell we're in."

"Huh, no shit."

"You'll have one eventually, kid."

He groans loudly. I'm guessing they've given him some pain-enhancers. They force some hours of sleep on the patient, but they wake up feeling messed-up.

"They're just testing us for the real thing, the real Hell on Earth."

* * *

Three hours later, there's another shot to be given, this time it's an anti-hallucinogenic drug for me, and something like an energy-reducer for him.

"Last one for the day," Doc shots the poison from the syringe into my veins and—fuck—it feels like I'm being electrocuted, but I don't scream. I'm used to his pain already.

"You too, sir." He motions over to Dante, who's barely over the age of sixteen—I guess, and prepares his dose.

"C'mon sir, this won't hurt a bit."

"Yeah, like she felt nothing at all."

"She's fine, give him a smile Luira." Doc nudges into my spine, just when the dose really kicks in, and my bones feel like cracking. I groan and shiver, falling facedown onto the floor. "See?" He says nervously.

"Yeah, sure." Dante walks over me, at least he didn't step, and punches doc right in the jaw.

"What the fuck—" Another fist to his jaw, "Son of a bitch!" Doc stabs the needle to his neck, but fails to press.

"Needles have nothing on me." Dante comments, his tone dry like he was given a numbing agent. He removes the syringe quickly and stabs it to doc's arm, injecting the dose into him.

_Doc's spasm is hilarious to see if you aren't cellmates with a sadist._

* * *

It's past the feeding time and we've been given nothing but opium pills and vitamin tablets.

I swallow hard, there wasn't any water and I'm not about to lick off the floor. "You know kid, I think you're my ticket outta this place."

"What makes you say that?"

"Something along the lines of: you've got guts to fight and I hope they don't send you in the dark."

He shrugs, obviously unaffected. "This is the dark."

"Nope, there's something far more sinister than this place. For one thing, it looks like a BDSM basement gone horrifyingly wrong." From what I've heard, it does.

"Yeah?" He's even arrogant to a fault, the nerve of this bastard.

"Huh, don't come crying to me when you're locked up in there, face to face with the devil."

"My father was the devil." His tone was hard, it's as if he's grinding his teeth together—oh wait, he is.

I roll my eyes, despite the fatigue. "Yeah, my mom is too, sucks for leaving their only child to rot in a brothel, where she receives a euphoric kind of insanity, and consequently sends herself to her death in this asylum."

"Limbo City's ruled by demons."

Obviously. "No shit, Sherlock."

"I'm gonna kill every-fucking-one of them."

* * *

**Three years later and—_shit_.**

* * *

A/N: This will either be a three-shot or something longer depending on what I know about the upcoming reboot (it's a reboot to me) of the DMC franchise. Review and I shall update as quick as possible.


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